


Have It Your Way

by TobiSterling



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Drabbles, F/F, M/M, Multi - Freeform, Multiship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 10:56:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16196126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TobiSterling/pseuds/TobiSterling
Summary: I don't often complete the prompts I ask people to send me on Tumblr, but when I do, they'll go here.





	1. Thiefshipping - New Years

When Bakura entered the apartment, the flood of lights that hit him told him Malik was still recovering from his birthday. Every single overhead light, lamp, and string of fairy lights in the place was on and Bakura, who spent the majority of his time in a dark room with only his TV or cell phone as a light source, actually winced as he glanced around the living room. Squinting, he went around and turned the lamps off just so he’d be able to _see_ , all the while muttering about how high Malik’s electric bill for December must be.

 

Bakura didn’t blame him for leaving all the nights on, though. He knew how Malik feared the dark and associated the darkness with the tomb, which is where everything wrong in his life had happened. And though Bakura didn’t know all the details, he knew a lot of really horrible things happened on Malik’s birthday –including his initiation. Bakura would have been worried if Malik didn’t shut down around this time.

 

That said, Malik usually started to come around by the 28th of December. He was still visibly depressed, yes, but he would at least leave his apartment and let everyone know he was okay. That didn’t happen this time around. It was New Year’s Eve, and Bakura hadn’t heard a peep out of Malik. Not even a text to let Bakura know he was still alive. Bakura would never admit it out loud, but the silence worried him. That’s why he was here.

 

He found Malik in the bedroom. Just like in the living room, everything single light that could be on was on, even battery operated flashlights sat on their ends pointing towards the ceiling. Malik lay on his side on the bed; his shirt was off and his back was to a fan, as all the extra lights being on at the same time made the entire apartment stifling. Bakura took a second to admire the very rare sight of Malik shirtless before announcing his presence by knocking on the door frame.

 

Malik didn’t even raise his head from his pillow. “Go away.”

 

“Nah.” Bakura moved over to the bed, sitting near the spot where Malik’s head rested. He reached out to stroke Malik’s hair, but Malik squeezed his eyes shut like he expected the touch to hurt him, so Bakura let his hand drop.

 

“Let’s go to the fireworks display tonight,” he said conversationally, as if he hadn’t come over specifically to invite Malik out. Despite the casual tone his stomach was doing flip flops.

 

“No.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Don’t want to.”

 

“Well that’s a dumb reason.” Bakura reached out again, and this time Malik didn’t flinch, so he combed his fingers through Malik’s messy hair. It felt slightly greasy, like it hadn’t been washed in the last few days. “Come on. You don’t let me lay around when I’m depressed, so I sure as hell am not going to let you lay around when _you’re_ depressed.”

 

Malik sighed. He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes closed for several moments before letting them open again. He looked up at Bakura. “You’re not going to leave me alone until I go, are you?”

 

“You know me, always the pest.”

 

Bakura saw the faintest twitch of a smile at Malik’s lips, and he grinned as his friend pulled himself into a sitting position.

 

“Fine. Just let me get ready.”

 

Bakura was normally very impatient, but he let Malik take his time in the shower, fixing his hair, applying his kohl, and picking out a seasonally appropriate outfit. It was the least he could do after making Malik get up, and besides, they had plenty of time before the fireworks at midnight. Two hours later and they were out the door. Streetlights lit their way, but Bakura was hyperaware of the way Malik walked unusually close to him.

 

Bakura led Malik to a park a few blocks away. Paper lanterns were strung up from tree to tree, lighting up a path of festival booths. They ate different kinds of _osechi_ and mocha and played _hanetsuki_. At first Malik was very reserved, still in a bad mood, but it only took Bakura dropping the shuttlecock once for him to cheer up, since he got to mark Bakura’s face with ink. Seeing that it cheered Malik up, Bakura let the shuttlecock fall to the ground two more times so Malik could draw a very deformed smiley face on his cheek.

 

By the time the 108 bells began ringing, Malik was laughing and grinning and dragging Bakura from game to game. They looked up from their spinning tops at the sound.

 

“Guess it’s almost midnight,” Malik commented, looking back to Bakura.

 

“Yeah. Come here,” he motioned for Malik to follow him. They left their tops on the ground and hurried through the crowd until they found a small hill towards the less congested part of the park. They reached the peak just as the last bell rang and then-

 

An explosion of red and gold lit up the sky. From their spot on the hill they could see the fireworks perfectly without any trees blocking their view. Malik gaped at the sky, wide eyed with wonder as glittering blue mortars popped in the fading glow of red and gold. Bakura had no interest in the fireworks; he watched Malik’s face as it lit up, just happy to see that Malik was finally getting over his birthday depression.

 

As fireworks continued to boom, crackle, and pop in the sky, Bakura slipped his hand into Malik’s, squeezing slightly. Malik’s gaze broke away from the fireworks to glance at him, surprised by the action.

 

“Happy New Year,” Bakura said with a grin, and without waiting for Malik to respond he leaned forward and pressed their mouths together. It was rushed and awkward, and Malik was too stunned by the sudden kiss to respond, but it lit fireworks inside Bakura all the same. When he pulled away he met Malik’s eyes; the various colors of the fireworks reflected in his eyes, making them look like crystals in the night.

 

Malik grinned. He used their still connected hands to pull Bakura closer and sealed his lips against Bakura’s in a proper kiss. When they pulled away they both wore dorky grins, and Malik pressed their foreheads together to keep their faces close as he whispered, “Happy New Year, Bakura.”


	2. Powershipping - On A Boat

Seto Kaiba looked positively green as he clutched the railing of the boat with one hand and held his rolling stomach with the other. The swaying of the boat was making his innards do flip flops, and he was sure if they didn’t reach their destination soon, he would empty the contents of his stomach into the sea.

 

“I never pictured you as the type to get seasick.” He heard Malik approach from behind and felt the other’s hand rest on the small of his back.

 

“This was a horrible idea,” Seto huffed in lieu of a proper reply. He didn’t look at Malik even as the other leaned against the railing beside him. He kept his eyes trained on the horizon. “Next time we travel anywhere, we’re taking a God damn plane.”

 

“Yes, because I really want to get into a giant flying metal cylinder. The last time we went to Osaka was bad enough.”

 

“That was just a little bit of turbulence. It’s normal.”                              

 

“I saw my life pass before my eyes.”

 

“The odds of a plane crashing is-“

 

Malik cut him off. “One in a million, I know. We had this conversation when you told me about this trip.”

 

“Correction. We had an argument.”

 

Malik smirked. “True.”

 

Kaiba took his eyes away from the water to glance down at Malik. He looked completely and perfectly at ease; he wore a white tank top and black harem pants, and the majority of his hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. The loose hair floated around in his face in the breeze, and the beginning of sun lit it up like gold, giving him an almost ethereal glow. Dark kohl surrounded his amethyst eyes and a bit of bronzer highlighted his cheeks and Cupid’s bow, drawing Seto’s attention to his mouth.  All at once Seto was reminded of just how beautiful Malik was, and how he sometimes resembled a fucking _god_ in the right lighting (though he would never tell the brat that), and all he could think about was how nice it would be to kiss him right then.

 

But just then his lunch of sashimi and nagiri filled his mouth, and he doubled over the railing and let it fall into the churning water below.

 

Malik had the nerve to _laugh_. He waited until Seto’s stomach was completely empty before grabbing his arms and steering him towards the galley below deck. “Okay, rule number one of seasickness; never stare at the water. It just makes the rocking worse sometimes.”

 

“Now you tell me.” Seto rolled his eyes but allowed Malik to take him to the galley. It was relatively small, enough to cook for a party of one dozen maybe, but it wasn’t like Malik was hosting any kind of gatherings on the boat. It sat unused at the dock for as long as they’d been together, but Seto had never cared enough to ask him why he even had it.

 

Seto made a beeline for the coffee pot. Malik grabbed his collar and pulled him away.

 

“What the hell?”

 

“Rule number two; no caffeine.”

 

“I’m going to die.”

 

“And you say I’m dramatic.” Malik made him sit at the island and prepared him a club soda with fruit. “Only water and light, fizzy drinks.”

 

Seto huffed but accepted the drink; anything to get the taste of regurgitated fish out of his mouth. “How do you know all this?”

 

Malik was silent for a moment, a dark cloud passing over his face. “When I was leading the Ghouls I would only travel by boat. Planes scared the shit out of me.”

 

Seto hummed an acknowledgement, but didn’t speak. He rarely did when Malik talked about his past; he just made sounds to show he was listening and to encourage Malik to elaborate if he wanted. Today, it seemed, he didn’t.

 

“Haven’t you been on a boat before?” he asked instead, watching Seto drink his drink.

 

“Twice. Once for a business party my step father threw, and again before Atem and Yugi dueled.”

 

“Were you not sick then?”

 

“No. Those were much bigger boats. They didn’t rock as much.”

 

When Seto finished his club soda Malik took his hands and lead him to the stateroom. It was more like a hotel bedroom with the way it was decorated, with a large, plush bed to one side and a TV on a dresser on the other. There were comfortable chairs here and there and plenty of light to let Kaiba sleep while keeping Malik’s nightmares away. Malik laid Seto down on the satin sheets and began unbuttoning his shirt. A spark of arousal shot through him, but he pushed Malik’s hands away.

 

“As much as I’d love to, not now.”

 

Malik snickered. “Oh no, I have absolutely no plans to fuck you while you’re in danger of throwing up on me or my bed. I just figured you’d be more comfortable if you were out of these stuffy clothes.”

 

“In that case, I can do it myself.”

 

“Ah, but do you want to.”

 

Kaiba scowled up at him. Malik snickered again and finished unbuttoning Seto’s shirt. Seto sat up and allowed Malik to pull the fabric from his body, then lifted his hips so Malik could remove his pants. Despite his still churning stomach Seto wanted Malik to remove his boxers, too, and kiss his hips and thighs the way Seto liked it and make his whole outing worth the indignity of a lost lunch.

 

Alas, Malik folded his clothes and went to lay them on the dresser.

 

“Can I have my phone back.” It was more of a demand than a request, and he held out his hand expectantly.

 

“Nope. Rule number three; no reading.”

 

“Damn, Malik. I can’t have my phone, my coffee, or sex? And you prefer sailing to flying?”

 

Malik turned and winked at him. “I’m not the one who gets seasick.”

 

“When we get to dry land I’m going to find the nearest hotel, shove your face to the bed, and fuck you until you’re begging to travel back by private jet.”

 

Malik laughed, a sound that always made Seto’s chest swell with delight for some fucking reason or another. “Keep talking like that and you’ll just get _yourself_ worked up.” He pointed to the tenting in Seto’s boxers.

 

Seto yanked the sheets over him.

 

Malik giggled and disappeared into the bathroom. He returned with the trash can and set it on Seto’s side of the bed. Then he slipped out of his pants, leaving his shirt on, and crawled under the sheets next to Seto. His arms slid around his middle and he pressed a trio of kisses to Seto’s bare shoulder, then leaned even closer and kissed the corner of Seto’s mouth. Seto sighed contently, turning his head just enough to let their lips connect. The kiss was chaste, neither really wanting to do much more until Seto brushed his teeth.

 

When they moved apart Seto rolled over so they were facing each other. Malik kissed him again, then rested his head on his chest. “Sleep,” he cooed, and Seto hummed, not realizing how tired he actually was until Malik’s arms had wrapped around him. He closed his eyes, ready to doze off, but his stomach decided to ruin the peaceful moment with the very last remains of his lunch.

 

Malik snickered and rubbed his back as he shoved his face into the trash can. “Okay, I give up. Next time we can take a plane.”

 

 

 

 


	3. Visionshipping - Caught In The Rain

A bolt of lightning lit up the sky, and the resounding boom of thunder that followed shook the entire city and made Isis jump a little in surprise. Her gaze turned skyward, watching in apprehension as fat, grey clouds rolled over the sky and blocked out the sun. Beside her, Mai cursed loudly.

 

“Damn it. Two percent chance of rain my ass!” She stomped a foot and planted her hands on her hips. “I swear, they only get the weather forecast wrong when I go out.”

 

Isis turned to Mai; her perfectly shaped brows were stitched together angrily and she wore a pout on her plum stained lips, and the way she pursed them made Isis dream of dragging their lips together. Her lipstick was such a lovely shade, and she imagined it would look even better if it was smeared from a few too many kisses. For what must have been the fifth time that day, Isis let her eyes stray to Mai’s body. She wore a form fitting top with her signature plunging neckline, a cropped leather jacket, and a matching black miniskirt. Her boots, also black leather, came up well past her knee and her heels were tall, adding at least another three inches to her height.

 

Isis felt a bit plain standing next to her in a creamy beige sundress, with a fluttering off the shoulder tier and a slightly cinched waist. The skirt, which fell to a little over her ankles, billowed dramatically in the breeze. She wore a golden belt adorned with gems like lapis lazuli and turquoise to bring some color to the otherwise boring garment. She wore her gold bracelets and armlets as a simple gold chain with a topaz gem. Mai wore a matching necklace, though the chain was silver and the gem was a diamond. _Best friend necklaces_ , Mai had told Isis when she presented them to her on Isis’ most recent birthday, but Isis hoped they meant more every time she saw Mai wearing her birthstone around her neck.

 

She gave herself another moment to appreciate Mai’s outfit and body before letting her gaze return to a more appropriate level.

 

Mai glared at the sky, as if she could make the clouds submit to her will and disperse with her stare alone. The angry, determined look on her face made Isis smile.

 

“Isn’t that always how it works?”

 

Mai turned to Isis, her face softening as she sighed. “Yeah. Murphey’s law.” She shifted her shopping bags to one hand and laid the other on the small of Isis’ back as she resumed walking. Isis fell into step beside her, her nerves ignited at the touch, her fingers curling tight around the handle of a single bag.

 

Mai was a bit of a shopaholic, and was always eager to spend her tournament winnings on new clothes, shoes, make up, and perfume. She was always asking Isis to accompany her to the various malls and shops she liked to frequent and Isis always said yes despite being more of a minimalist with her wardrobe, having a slightly more limited income, and rarely wanting to actually shop. The stores were crowded, everything was expensive, and the stores Mai liked to frequent rarely catered to Isis’ more modest tastes. But she loved spending time with Mai, loved the way her eyes lit up with excitement when she found a garment she really liked, and loved Mai trying on her clothing hauls and asking for her opinions, or dabbing perfume on her wrist and asking Isis to smell it. So she continued to say yes, even though she always had a hard time finding something she actually wanted or needed.

 

But this time around her eye had caught a gorgeous blue dress in a shop window they had passed, and Mai had talked her into trying it on. The fabric was made of polyester but looked and felt like silk, dyed such a deep blue it reminded Isis of the skies above Egypt at night. It was off the shoulder, her favorite style of neckline, with a ruched bodice that hugged her slender waist and a mermaid styled tail that showed off the curve of her hips.

 

She had absolutely no idea when she would ever have an occasion to wear something so formal, but it had fit her perfectly and made her blue eyes pop, and she fell in love with it as she stood in the dressing room and stared at her reflection. When she stepped out of the dressing room to show Mai, the hungry look Mai pinned her with sealed the deal, and she _had_ to have it. She carried it home with no plans to wear it out, but she was already trying to think of an excuse to wear it around Mai again.

 

“I swear to God if it actually starts raining before we get home I’m going to scream,” Mai muttered after another crash of thunder made the shop windows beside them rattle in their panes.

 

They were still several blocks away from the train station that would take them home when the first raindrops began to fall. Mai didn’t scream, but she did extend a one fingered salute to the sky. Isis giggled, glad that her dress came with one of those plastic dress covers so it would be protected from the rain.

 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been caught in the rain,” Isis mused, glancing up at the sky again. Rain hit her face and she sighed contently; she had always loved the rain. Growing up underground had robbed her the simple pleasure of a rainstorm for the first fourteen years of her life. After she reunited with her brothers and promised them they could live above ground from now on rain became her favorite thing. So she didn’t complain, even as her dress became heavily spotted with water.

 

However the light sprinkling of rain soon turned into heavy sheets that almost felt painful against Isis’ bare shoulders. She and Mai began jogging between store overhangs, pausing under the shelter of the occasional awning before dashing to the next one when it seemed the rain was letting up. Despite their hurried steps and the plentitude of awnings, by the time they reached the train station they were completely soaked through.

 

Mai was growling curses under her breath, and Isis could sympathize; she wore more make up than Isis, which was in danger of running, and she carried more bags than Isis as well, most of which were the kind of paper that could, at best, allow water to soak the clothing inside and, at worst, break open.

 

Mai dropped her bags onto a bench, and Isis was relieved the overhang above the seating blocked out most of the rain. They were dripping wet, barely an inch of dry skin or fabric between them. Isis’ long, black hair was heavy with moisture, and she rung it out before pulling it into a loose, sloppy bun.

 

“Well, it doesn’t look like I’m going to have to throw anything out,” Mai said, pulling Isis’ attention back to her. She blinked, startled by Mai’s appearance. Her curly mane of hair had lost its volume to the water and trailed down her back in loose, dripping waves. A few strands here and there stuck to her forehead and cheeks; her face was rosy and pink from their run as well as the chill that came with the rain, and her eyeliner was smeared ever so slightly around her eyes.

 

Mai looked up at her friend, blinking when she caught her staring. She brushed the hair away from her face. “What? Do I look that bad? Please don’t tell me I have mascara tears.”

 

“No,” Isis answered automatically, breathlessly. In fact, she had never seen Mai more attractive than in that moment. She couldn’t hold herself back any longer and leaned forward to pluck a kiss from Mai’s berry stained lips.

 

Mai pulled back in surprise, her eyes wide and her peach face turning red.

 

Isis’s own face burned from embarrassment and shame, realizing what she’d just done. “Oh my gods I’m sorry, I don’t- I didn’t mean- I-”

 

Mai cut off her stammering by grabbing her face and pulling her in until their mouths were crushed together. Isis let out a startled moan, her eyes falling closed as Mai worked her lips against Isis’, coaxing her to return the kiss. She did with fervor, her arms winding around Mai’s shoulders and her hands digging into her wet hair.

 

When they parted they both breathed harder than normal, gazes locking together as soon as they opened their eyes. Isis fidgeted under Mai’s bright stare, not sure what to say or what to do, but Mai spoke first.

 

“You… All this time, I thought you were straight.”

 

Isis let out a bark of laughter, hiding her mouth behind her hand. “I thought you were, too.”

 

“Fuck, really? I was sending you, like, all the signals!”

 

“To be fair, I grew up in a tomb. I have no idea that the signals are.”

 

Mai giggled and rested her forehead against Isis’, even as an old woman on the bench aside from theirs rudely cleared her throat. “I could teach you, if you want?”

 

“I’d like that.”

 

Mai smiled and leaned in for another kiss. Isis met her halfway, having just enough time to glance down at her lips before their lips met.

 

Her lipstick was already smeared rather deliciously.


End file.
